


patterns in the sand

by kwritten



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 07:54:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1258711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwritten/pseuds/kwritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you keep coming back to me, but I can't always be your villain</p>
            </blockquote>





	patterns in the sand

It's like lather, rinse, repeat the way you always find each other. 

Like the water will always keep rushing down with the same questions and they wash themselves in the memories of the ones that have died. Just rushing and rushing and all they can do to keep from drowning is to pretend they belong there and good can come from it all so they cleanse themselves and pretend they don't stink of death.

 

He says that all there is between them is death.  
She laughs.

Her kisses taste like copper on his lips and her laugh lingers in the air long after she is gone.

 

It's like hitting redial and all there is on the other end is the sound of your own voice from a recording you made in the tenth grade, when your hair was longer and your voice was lighter and the only pain you thought would ever come your way was that of your own choosing.

 

"What did you do?"  
She doesn't ask. The question mark you add in your own mind like a footnote on your life.  
You could be lying in a pool of your own blood and all she'll see is blood and she'll still ask

"What did you do." 

Like it's a question that you have any right at all to answer.

 

You told her once that you couldn't be responsible for every bad thing that ever happened in her life.  
And then you sulked because she took you for your word.

You told her once, later, that you wanted to be held responsible for the good things that happened in your lives.  
(All three of you tangled up in each other like sand.)  
(He laughs and says that sand can't tangle.)  
(She walked away anyway so why does it matter.)

 

You listened to him tell her that they are epic and you hold the phone to his ear even after he's passed out on your bathroom floor and you wish that you were good with words or with gestures so that you could call her and tell her that you are epic and the story is lying there on your bathroom floor.  
But the phone is in your hand and you called your own number and you erase the message without listening to it.

He says it for her and not for you.

 

Yeah... you've heard that before.   
Usually with blood on your hands and his face and your face.

 

You don't let her see you like this, balls deep in another mess.   
(We could be heroes.)  
His mess crying on the floor or yours with blood streaming down in the shower.  
You wear all your lives on your body and they can't stand the sight of you because you grow older while they pretend to stay frozen and you think: of course I bear more scars because I'm carrying yours around too.

You are the mirror they try to hide from.  
You mark their lives on your skin so they don't forget it all and they resent you for it.

Oh well.  
We all have our parts to play.

 

She says What did you do.  
(You know he's waiting outside. You know he'll answer for you.)

 

She says What did you do?  
He says nothing with a smile.

 

You stand between them and you know it's you and it's her and it's him and you've all done it all so why do we keep asking.

 

She says What did you do.  
And you answer.

You spill everything. You get drunk and you tell her all your sins.  
It's easy to confess to your executioner.

 

It's never enough.

She says What did you do.  
And you hear him laugh.

 

You wanted to be heroes.  
(She didn't make you villains, she just pointed out the obvious.)

 

"You know what's really epic?" you say it to your scotch and he answers slowly because he's always careful with his words and you have learned to respect that.  
"That it's actually so completely ordinary."

Boy falls for girl.  
Boy falls for girl.  
"Girl dies."  
"Cheers."  
(They always need a new drink when they get to this part of the story.)  
Boys fall again.

Wait but first we become villains.  
First we are the bad guy.

 

"What did you do."

 

We fell in love with you.

 

Sometimes she stumbles into them with a careless run in her tights and her hair coming lose of her elegant bun and there's one or there's two (they begrudge each other later) (it's not like they haven't all been there before) and she doesn't ask any questions they don't have the right answers for. Sometimes there's lipstick on his collar and buttons missing from his shirt and she smiles at them like they are the world and they live there. Sometimes there isn't a script she forgot to give and they can sink into her skin and forget that there is a formula to this. (She never forgets.)   
(She can't afford to forget.)  
(You can't really blame her for that.  
She's still alive after all.)

 

"What did you do!?"

There are only two villains in her world that matter. She goes back to them again and again like a record baby turn baby. She didn't make them but she needs them.

 

You could have been heroes.  
In another story.

With a girl who needed saving.   
(You all share a drink and try to forget the girl who should've been saved.)

 

You think maybe she's punishing you.  
You all punish each other so maybe she's no different there.  
You hold a grudge like armor to your broken, bleeding chest.

 

I hurt myself today, looking in the mirror and shouting like it can hear me.  
(Only it can.)  
(Because my reflection is you and you.)

 

You could have been heroes in another story with a girl like a princess with a delicate heart. Cowboys with guns blazing and law left far behind. You could have taken down the dragon together and celebrated with soft laughter and delicate kisses. You could have been heroes, you think to yourself as he sobs away on your bathroom floor for the third time that week and you take the phone away so that you don't have to answer the questions you can't answer.

 

"What did you do?"

I was a villain, just like you asked.  
Can you come home now and pick up the pieces?

 

I don't know what happens next.

We fell in love and I don't know what happens next.

What happens when villains fall in love.

 

And just like that a wind blows and the pattern is reset and they start all over.  
But you're still standing there with the scars.  
And he's still lying there with tears running down his cheeks.

And she's still walking away.  
Because trust doesn't come easy and you were always the villain.

 

She told him once that she wasn't built the way other girls are. You look in the mirror and you see the cogs and the wheels that turn better than she'll ever know. He never asked for another girl. (She never had to tell you how she was made, you were always the one telling her.)

A leopard never changes it's spots.  
You say it to each other and you both know it's true.  
There's no hiding from the truth.  
(That's what you used to think.)

 

Do you see the pattern now? Do you see the way it works? Can you pick out the lines and cackle with glee - isn't that what the villain is supposed to do? (You forget, you were never good at books.)

 

(What did you do?  
We fell in love with you.)

 

You'd like to turn it around sometime. Break the pattern. Hold her accountable. Ask her just once.  
What did you do?

 

But a leopard never changes it's spots.  
And she'll always need you to be responsible for all the bad things in the world.

It's a heavy burden. But it keeps her getting up and facing every day with her head held high.

 

What did you do?

Something wrong, you'd bet.

That's the way the world turns.

 

What did you do?  
(She finds you innocent.  
That's the pattern.  
She shouts the answer and you never have to give it.

 

What did you do?  
I existed so that you can crawl out of bed every morning.  
Let us be your shadows.  
We'll still be here when the rain stops falling.)

 

(You stop being resentful.  
She stops being surprised you don't fight.  
He stops turning away from you.)

 

 

Hi hunny. How was your day?

What did you do?


End file.
